Clockwork
by EverShadow
Summary: AU/One-shot. Santana's life is constant. She likes schedules, she likes plans. But she also likes a woman she sees at the bar every day whose life seems to be the polar opposite of her own. It is chaotic, unstructured and Santana wants to be a part of it.


She counted. It was the one hundredth and fifty third day that she'd done this. It had become somewhat of a ritual, a process as automatic as brushing teeth at 6:35 in the morning, or getting to the office at 7:30 exactly, even if it meant waiting outside for a minute so that her timing could be perfect. At exactly 7:10pm, she pulled into her usual parking spot, locked the car and walked into the bar. She'd go up to the bartender, sit down and order the draft special. The bartender would have her beer ready in 2 minutes and 13 seconds and she would finish it in the next ten and order another.

It was precise, it was constant. Santana liked it that way. She loathed spontaneity and she liked schedules, lists, and plans. She routinely turned down suitors and offers to buy drinks (it would throw off her whole night and morning) and she never stayed past eleven. She didn't even like chatting with the other patrons, it would cause seconds of delay in her otherwise immaculate schedule. But she liked the bartender and she was willing to make small talk with her. It was the only real social interaction she had outside of work. People, Santana decided a long time ago, were too unpredictable and that only led to trouble. It was better that her life be structured and boring than chaotic and messy. She made the exception for Tina because Tina never overstepped her bounds. They'd shoot the breeze, she'd ask about Tina's day, usually hearing about a particularly drunk customer that stumbled in long after Santana had left the premises. In return, she'd talk about the boring day she had at the office, usually some form of staring at the walls of her cube, doing paperwork and watching the minutes tick on by. After this short exchange, Tina would tend to the other customers.

It happened every Monday through Friday. She tried out Saturday and found that it was too crowded and rowdy so she stuck to the weekdays. It wasn't even a particularly good bar. The drafts were decent but expensive, far too much for her desired budget. The people who hung around were either graduate students or young business men looking for a trophy wife. And sometimes, being one of the only women there was more trouble than she thought the bar was worth. Yet day after day she came back.

It all started on day one. It was a long hard 9 hours at work and she agreed to a date with one of her coworkers. Looking back, Santana wasn't sure why she accepted. She'd gotten along perfectly well by herself but it had been a long week and she had been hit with a sudden fear that she would be alone for the rest of her life. It was a fear that she'd dealt with many times, often resulting in her finding a random guy, sleeping with him and having that night reinforce her desire to keep her life the way it was. Her coworker happened to catch her on one of these days. He took her to the bar and attempted to hit things off with a few bad jokes, small talk about their similar interests and compliments on her attire. None of these worked and he wound up mostly floundering in the middle of conversation. Santana had half a mind never to return to the bar again, it was sure to bring up the painfully awkward memory. But at 8:43pm, just as their date was finally drawing to its end, she saw _her_. It was like a beacon of light had stepped into the dimly lit establishment. She remembered the time exactly because she kept glancing at her watch, waiting to see if it was late enough to feign sleepiness. It was at that moment, perhaps out of longing to escape the painful date, that she saw _her_ walk in.

She did it as casually as possible but even so she turned heads. The bar got several times quieter as patrons turned to regard this beauty. She sat down at a table calmly, as if the dozens of men and women weren't eying her with enough intensity to cut a lesser woman down. She simply sat down, picked up a menu and the waiter, after picking up his jaw off the ground, stumbled over and took her order. She brushed her honey gold hair back behind her shoulders and smiled at the waiter, almost causing him to run into the bus boy.

It was a full two hours later when Santana and her date left but she certainly didn't stay because of his company.

"Let's just be friends." She said apologetically. He gave her a weak smile and kept trying to salvage what little pride he had left by apologizing profusely. She told him the usual excuses, it wasn't him (it was her), it would be awkward at work, etc. They parted ways at their respective cars and Santana cast a glance back at the bar, memorizing its name before driving off.

She came back to the bar the next night at the same time. She had already eaten but it would seem more than unusual if she simply ordered a water. So she sat at the bar, ordered a drink and waited. It was odd of her to do that, to simply go to a bar on a whim. She knew exactly why she had returned but it seemed silly. But she stayed and she watched people walk in and out, studied the faces of every man, woman and child as she waited to catch a glimpse of that woman who had stirred something within Santana's harshly constrained soul. But time passed and the woman didn't show up at the same time that she did the previous night. Santana sighed and shook her head. How could she have expected the same thing? Not everyone was an OCD freak like she was. No one paid attention to when they went to a restaurant, much less going to the same one at the same time on purpose. She downed her drink and prepared to leave but just as she set her glass down, the door opened and the woman walked in. Santana sat back down quickly and turned so that it wasn't obvious that she was staring again. She raised her finger to signal the bartender and she ordered another beer.

Santana watched silently, not moving. The blond was lithe and cheerful. She was able to catch the attention of many smartly dressed men hanging around. Within a few minutes, she had three buying her drinks at the same time. Santana looked at the men wearing their Prada, Armani and Gucci suits with their $100 dollar hair cuts and Rolex watches. They looked like walking magazine ads and no doubt the expensive cars out front belonged to that crowd. The blond laughed at what seemed like their jokes. It was a well rehearsed laugh, not too loud, not too forced. It was just enough to show that she was paying attention to their words and was genuinely amused by their presence. To Santana, it showed that she belonged in that society, or at least had enough experience dealing with the upper class that she pretended well enough that she fit in. The beer turned stale in Santana's mouth. She suddenly wished she was rich enough, or confident enough to approach the woman like those men did. Instead, she drove a beat up used car that had definitely seen the better half of the previous decade and she wore cheap clothes she had bought from the clearance rack. She felt a little ashamed to think that she could even compare to those men telling their fancy stories and oozing charisma from every pore. And for the first time in a long time, Santana wished she had a little spontaneity.

It never bothered Santana that she was attracted to this woman. She'd never really been attracted to women before, with one large exception, but to be honest, she didn't really feel particularly attracted to men either. After her last relationship, she'd swore only to date men from then on. They'd been good for a distraction or two but she could never bring herself to connect emotionally with them. Suddenly this mysterious blond had caught her attention and she wondered if she should go back to barking up the other tree, or maybe this woman was a special case. Since her ex had broken up with her, she'd never paid attention to women again. It was time to try again. After watching women of all sizes, shapes and looks on the street below her banged up apartment and not feeling any sort of attraction to any of them, she decided that it was a special case.

* * *

"So are you actually going to talk to her this time?" Day forty-five and Tina asked that question. "Or do you want me to get you another beer so you can watch her leave with the Donald Trump du jour?" Santana swallowed the last bit of her drink, the coffee and bitter taste lingering on her tongue. How many times had she watched the woman leave with a different man? The last count had to be twenty-seven. Twenty-seven times in the forty-five days that Santana had showed up. She thought about the men that the woman left with and shook her head.

"She only leaves with men in their thirties who have suits that cost more than my apartment." Santana said. Tina smirked.

"And she comes back every night because she's clearly not satisfied. Just go talk to her already." Tina said. Santana shook her head again.

"No way."

* * *

Day fifty-seven and Santana thought she was going to die. It was the same old thing, the stool three from the left, a draft, brown eyes watching the blond woman flirting with a tall, Jewish man with a shaved head. Santana had gotten so used to just watching the blond from afar without the blond noticing. _It's because I'm a nobody._ Santana reasoned. But this time, the blond turned her head and their eyes met. Santana almost choked on her beer and she covered her mouth only to have some of it spill from her mouth and drip between her fingers. She colored, knowing how stupid she looked. The blond smiled coyly at her and winked. Santana didn't miss a second of it, even though she quickly dissolved into a violent fit of coughs right after. Tina brought over a glass of water.

"Her name is Brittany." She whispered. Santana said nothing and downed the water while simultaneously grabbing napkins to clean up the mess. She almost missed it when Brittany got up, the man's arm around her waist a glaring reminder that Santana was going home alone yet again. She watched with mild jealousy as she wiped her hands clean.

* * *

Day seventy and Brittany didn't show up at all. It was a cold winter day with slow piling up on the side walk. Tina handed Santana her usual and leaned on the counter. They were the only two at the place.

"So how long are you just going to creep on her instead of saying something? I'm surprised she keeps coming back, to be honest, she's got to know you're watching."

"I can't." Santana replied.

"Why not?"

"I just can't." Santana sighed. "I'm not good with this stuff. And I'm still traumatized by my ex." Tina said nothing but her silence made Santana continue just to fill the air. "She was this beautiful blond, just like Brittany. We dated for a few years and then she just up and left with this half pint of a Broadway singer."

"So?" Tina asked, unimpressed.

"So...Brittany will probably do the same thing." Tina scoffed at the statement.

"Really? Is that your excuse?" Tina demanded. "Because that's lame. She's beautiful and I don't know her personality but you'll never find out if you don't try." Santana looked at her watch. It was getting close to eleven and Brittany was still a no show. She sighed and slid off her chair. Tina cleaned off the counter and Santana exited.

* * *

Day seventy-five was much like days seventy through seventy-four; empty. A few people would wander in to have dinner or to defrost but none of them stayed very long. Tina mostly read a book, commenting on how Brittany hadn't shown up in a while. Santana tried to ignore that fact. Maybe Brittany had outgrown the place, maybe she moved. A thousand uncertainties and scenarios played out in Santana's head and she was reminded why she hated when she didn't have the answer to everything. That's why she kept life simple, so that the answers were simple. Factoring Brittany into the equation was only asking for stress. Just as the clock hit 9:00, Brittany walked in the door. Santana immediately straightened up and watched. Her heart pounded when the blond smiled and turned but the smile was not directed towards Santana. Her excitement vanished when a tall brunette walked in as well, laughing with her. He was a gentleman, pulling the chair out for her and taking her coat. Santana took a big swig of her beer and turned her head away.

"Oh my God." Tina whispered. "That's Finn Hudson!" Santana had to do a double take. Finn Hudson? Giant corporate leader? He was on the Forbes list of top leaders to watch.

He looked kind of stupid, Santana thought but it was mostly out of bitterness because Brittany reached over and touched his hand tenderly. It was 10:10 and Santana broke routine for the first time by leaving early and leaving before Brittany.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen Brittany with other men before. The most recent count was thirty-three, thirty-four counting Finn. She'd left with men of all types, some definitely more handsome than Finn Hudson. The difference was that she always _left_ with other men. She had come in with Finn. Santana kicked at a pile of snow, wondering if that was why she had been missing for so many days. Tina's words echoed in her mind, _"She comes back every night because she's not satisfied."_ So what, was she satisfied now that she had the cream of the crop when it came to important men? Santana sat down on the sidewalk, feeling dizzy. The images of Brittany touching Finn's hand affectionately wouldn't leave her and she tried her best to forget them. It didn't work.

Santana didn't go back for a week. When she did, it was in part because it was late and she had no more booze in her fridge. The instant she walked in, Tina looked up.

"Welcome back." Tina said, getting a tall glass and filling it before Santana even opened her mouth to say anything.

"Just one and then I'm out of here." Santana said. Tuesday nights were always empty nights. Tina shrugged and set the glass down.

"Whatever you say." She replied. "You know, she hasn't come back." Tina watched Santana's reaction but Santana said nothing. She kept drinking and did little else. Her expression was calculated and controlled. Tina sighed. "It's your own damn fault, you know, that she got away." Santana downed her beer in one breath and slammed it back down on the table.

"I'm done." She announced and hopped off the stool. She flicked her card towards Tina and hopped off the stool. Just as she did, the door to the bar flew open and Brittany walked in. Santana's eyes widened in shock and she turned to look at her. There was no one else at the bar, there were no patrons that night, surely Brittany was going to leave because there were no tall, dark and handsome rich men there for her to court. And Finn, Santana half expected him to follow her in but Brittany just steadied her gaze towards Santana and walked in, the door swinging shut behind her.

_She's coming towards me._ Santana thought as her breath quickened. _Why is she coming towards me? Is she going to tell me that I need to stop watching her? Is she..._

Santana's thought process stopped when Brittany smiled at her.

"Hi." She said. "I've seen you here lots." Santana nodded stupidly. Almost as if they'd been doing it for years, Santana closed the three foot gap between them and grabbed the fold of her blazer and kissed her. Equally and surprisingly frantic, Brittany ran her fingers through Santana's hair and pulled her close, her hands finding their place in the small of Santana's back. It was like her body was molded for those hands. They kissed furiously and Santana pushed Brittany back outside.

Hours after Santana should've gone to sleep, she found herself naked and in bed with the most mesmerising person she's ever met in her entire life. It took her drab, mathematical and structured world and shattered it so beautifully that Santana never wanted to go back to the grey monotonous walls of her lonely apartment, not when she was here in Brittany's where everything was brightly colored. And she never wanted to leave or forget the sight of the blond, her mouth open in pleasure, with Santana coaxing her higher and higher up until she hit that peak and cried out in such a symphony that would make Bach blush in shame for Santana had never heard anything that moved her to such a degree. Brittany rested for a minute while Santana kissed her body tenderly. She made her way up to Brittany's collarbone and the blond sat up.

"My name is Brittany." She said. Santana laughed aloud at how strange it was to be introducing themselves after what had just occurred.

"Santana." She replied. Brittany leaned over to kiss her and Santana smiled into it.

"Nice to finally meet you, Santana." Her voice rumbled against her lips.

"Finally?" Santana asked, feeling like she could jump out of her skin with Brittany's touch.

"I've seen you in the bar for the past two months, except weekends." Brittany replied. "you're always sitting at the bar with a beer and you're always alone." Santana sighed softly and settled against her shoulder.

"And you're always there too. Except you always leave with someone random." Santana noted. Brittany laughed but it wasn't the stifled, polite laugh she was used to. It was real and it made Santana's heart flutter with the knowledge that she'd seen Brittany as herself.

"How long have you been watching me?" She asked. Santana buried her face into the pillow and mumbled a number. She felt a little ashamed, a little stalker-ish but she couldn't help it. Brittany rubbed her back comfortingly. "It's ok, I was watching you too."

"Seventy-six days." Santana replied. Brittany blinked in surprise.

"That's exact." She said, smiling. Santana blushed, wondering when Brittany was going to realize that she was a control freak and leave? Brittany, who was spontaneous, who didn't seem to adhere to any sort of schedule, who practically screamed reckless, could not be attracted to someone who went to sleep at exactly 11:30.

"How about you?" Santana asked, trying to deflect attention.

"Hm...you caught my attention that time I winked at you." Brittany said. "You were just so...I dunno, magnetic. But you never so much as said hello." Santana smiled into Brittany's hair. She wanted to ask what they were going to do now. Santana had jumped, now it was time to see if she had company in the fall.

"So what..." Her question was cut short when Brittany's phone rang. Brittany rolled over and grabbed it. Santana trailed lazy kisses up her arm and glanced at her.

"Hello?" She spoke into the phone. The voice on the other side said the same thing. Santana stopped kissing Brittany. She recognized the voice.

"Hey! I was wondering if I could come over?" Finn's voice asked.

"Now?" Brittany looked at Santana worriedly. The brunette's eyes clouded. "I can't now. But how about another day?" Santana slid off the bed and began dressing. When Brittany finished her brief talk with Finn, Santana was already on her way out.

"Santana, wait!" Brittany chased after her, still naked. "You've got it wrong!" Santana didn't wait. Her fear of another Quinn overpowered her. She panicked, she didn't want to be hurt again. She didn't want Brittany to tell her she was just a one night stand, like all of those men she'd been with. Brittany grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry I'm not rich." Santana snapped, tearing her arm away from Brittany's grasp. "I'm sorry I'm not the head of some big corporation." Before Brittany could respond, Santana slammed the door and ran out. Day seventy-six and Santana ran out of Brittany's apartment at 1:16 in the morning.

Santana knew she'd run out mostly because she panicked. She knew her irrational fears were still present. Hearing Finn's voice didn't help. She was the other woman. Of course, Brittany could have any man or woman she wanted, why would she choose someone like her? It had only been because Santana was the only patron at the bar, so Brittany didn't really have a choice.

Her car was still parked at the bar and it definitely had closed already. Santana cursed under her breath, realizing that she'd also left her card with Tina. She got into the drivers seat and started it, feeling bitter and ashamed that she wasn't something more suitable for Brittany to associate with.

* * *

Santana woke up the next morning with her feelings in a state of turmoil. It was as if Brittany had robbed her of all of her senses, all of her need to be meticulous. She had a cup in the sink that was unwashed and it didn't even bother her in the slightest, at least, it didn't bother her as much as remembering the way Brittany trailed her fingers along Santana's face, committing it to memory. Santana looked at herself in the mirror. She was already way off schedule for work and she needed to get her card back. She brushed her teeth 1 minute later than usual and got to work, storming through the front door at 7:35. The lady on the front desk was on the phone with human resources when she walked in and she heard,

"She hasn't come in yet, yes! Santana Lopez! Did not come in at 7:30, can we get someone to go check to see if she's dead?" When Santana walked in, the lady quickly corrected herself and hung up the phone.

For most of the day, Santana tried to forget Brittany by working, spinning idly in her chair and trying to make conversation with people she normally wouldn't. None of it helped her forget the way Brittany's tongue swept across her teeth, or the gentle caresses on her shoulder, or the way her nails dug into her skin. It was like alcohol-free intoxication and Santana was addicted already. Brittany had thrown a wrench into the steady gears of her life and she was going crazy because of it.

At 7:11pm, she rolled into the parking lot of the bar, determined to stay for as little as possible. She entered the bar and Tina looked up from her book and smirked knowingly at her.

"Ballsy move." Tina said.

"I want my card back." Santana interrupted. Tina shrugged and walked over to the stack of cards she'd collected over the past few days. Santana tapped her foot impatiently. She didn't want to be there when Brittany showed up.

"Santana." Santana cursed and closed her eyes. She didn't turn around. Brittany sat down next to her. "Santana!"

"Tina, where is my fucking card?" She yelled. Tina shrugged, still searching.

"Santana, listen." Brittany commanded.

"Forget it." Santana said to the bartender, making a move to leave. Brittany, in one fluid motion, trapped Santana's body against the bar.

"Just listen!" Brittany shouted. Santana turned her head. "I broke up with Finn a week ago." Santana turned her head back. "It wasn't working out. He's a total sweetheart but I was intrigued by this woman at this bar I frequent. And I wanted to pursue her." Santana's mouth fell open. "She has the most beautiful dark eyes and amazing caramel colored skin but she looks lonely most of the time. I want to ease her loneliness."

"Your card." Tina said, winking at Santana. Santana looked down, embarrassed.

"I'm not..."

"I don't care about what you're not. I care about who you are." Brittany said. Santana looked up at the blue sparkling eyes that promised never to hurt her, that promised her a life of excitement and happiness. She could feel herself falling for Brittany, despite her previous reservations.

"Can...can I buy you a drink?" Santana offered. It was the only thing she knew to say and it was as good a place to start as any.

"No." Brittany replied, winking. "You're not rich remember? I'll buy." Santana missed her when she sat down beside her. But she took her hand and Tina brought over beers for the both of them, muttering "about fucking time" causing Brittany to giggle. Day seventy-seven at 7:21pm and Santana thought to herself that maybe it was the start of something beautiful.

* * *

She counted. It was the one hundredth and fifty third day that she'd done this. It had become somewhat of a ritual, a process as automatic as brushing teeth at 6:35 in the morning, or getting to the office at 7:30 exactly, even if it meant waiting outside for a minute so that her timing could be perfect. At exactly 7:10pm, she pulled into her usual parking spot, locked the car and walked into the bar. She'd go up to the bartender, sit down and order the draft special. The bartender would have her beer ready in 2 minutes and 13 seconds and she would finish it in the next ten and order another.

At 8 something (it was never the same time but it came close) a blond woman would walk in, causing most of the room to stop and stare in awe. She'd sit down next to Santana and they talk about their day. Brittany would shoot down anyone who offered to buy her a drink, even if they were wearing a suit that amounted to Santana's paycheck for a few months. Instead, Brittany would politely decline and return to the conversation she was having with the brunette woman sitting next to her. When they finished talking, or if they simply wanted to leave, they'd get up and walk out the door, hand in hand. It happened Monday through Friday, sometimes Saturdays even, and Sundays were reserved for staying in bed and cuddling. It was precise, it was constant. It was like...like clockwork.


End file.
